John Keats «The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone…»
* * *
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone,
Bright eyes, accomplished shape, and lang’rous waist!
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,
Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,
Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,
Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise—
Vanished unseasonably at shut of eve,
When the dusk holiday—or holinight
Of fragrant-curtained love begins to weave
The woof of darkness thick, for hid delight;
But, as I’ve read love’s missal through today,
He’ll let me sleep, seeing I fast and pray.
John Keats (1795–1821)
* * *День отошел и все с собой унес: Поблекло все — так вянут вмиг цветы. Исчезло все — и мглою мир объят, Весь часослов любви прочел я днем Джон Китс |
* * *День отошел, и все с ним отошло: Джон Китс |
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